


Considerations

by Ausp_ice



Series: Ascendant [5]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Aromantic spectrum, Asexuality Spectrum, Exploration of Relationships, Gen, Supportive Connor (Detroit: Become Human), injury mention
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-04
Updated: 2020-03-04
Packaged: 2021-02-23 01:21:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23003482
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ausp_ice/pseuds/Ausp_ice
Summary: Gavin wishes he could help. He just has no idea how.So at the end of the day, when Nines asked him, "May I join you this evening, Detective?"—he didn't hesitate to accept.
Relationships: Connor & Upgraded Connor | RK900, Elijah Kamski & Gavin Reed, Hank Anderson & Upgraded Connor | RK900, Minor or Background Relationship(s), Upgraded Connor | RK900 & Gavin Reed
Series: Ascendant [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1629997
Comments: 14
Kudos: 74





	Considerations

**Author's Note:**

> You know, I originally had a thought to pair Gavin and Nines romantically, but I decided I'd much rather do this. I actually find it extremely difficult to write romance. Not really my thing, I suppose.
> 
> I made a short animation for the cover this time! It's posted [here](https://sta.sh/01m65v6hx9la).

Nines seemed… stressed.

Gavin wasn't sure how else to describe it. When the android arrived at the station, he'd seemed _more_ closed off than usual. Stiff, both in the way he spoke and the way he moved. 

That, and he'd gone and fucking _crushed_ a pen in his grip. He didn't even look surprised—and just let his skin melt and reform to dissolve the stains on his hand with a "My apologies. I will replace that." and proceeding to methodically clean the stray droplets. 

He noticed, too, that Connor didn't show up to pester anyone all day. Maybe _he_ had something to do with it. There were only a few things that could really bother Nines this much.

And, well. Having a brother be _there_ yet completely out of reach… yeah. Gavin had some idea of that, at least. 

His thoughts strayed to Connor. Gavin isn't sure how he stands with him now. Before… the _incident_ , it was only because of Nines that he interacted with Connor in any civil manner. Both of them kept their distance—and Gavin couldn't really blame him, given that he'd physically assaulted him. More than once. 

Gavin thought he was just some plastic cop back then, but… 

Yeah. He doesn't blame the guy. 

Now, he's just left with a persistent feeling of restlessness. A feeling that he should have been better, should _be_ better— but he doesn't even know how he could possibly help. Connor's like… some kind of ghost, always haunting them, halfway to death—and Nines is cracking from the emotional burden of toeing that border. Hank's having a rough time, too, but at least he had some experience with losing someone. 

He wouldn't wish that on anyone, let alone twice, but… at least Hank could be something of a stable support for both of them. And Gavin? Gavin wishes he could help. He just has no idea how. 

So at the end of the day, when Nines asked him, "May I join you this evening, Detective?"—he didn't hesitate to accept.

* * *

"Make yourself at home," Gavin mumbles, as he opens the door to his apartment. 

The space is pretty bare, minimalistic—a few decorations, a couch, table, and TV are all that populate the living room. 

"Thank you, Gavin," a soft voice answers directly behind him. 

Fuck, he always walked so quietly. Nines is a lot closer than he expected.

A meow sounds below their feet—just in time for Gavin to see his cat make a beeline for Nines. 

"Hello, Orca." Nines kneels down, brushing his fingers lightly over her ears, trailing the touch down her back. The cat meows again, before slinking back to who-knows-where. 

"Swear she likes you more than me. You've only been here, what, twice before? Fucking traitor."

A smirk teases the corners of Nines's mouth. "Are you surprised, though?" 

Gavin opens his mouth to retort. But without further ado, the android rises and stalks towards the couch, sitting on it and closing his eyes.

Gavin pads after him, not bothering to turn on the light. The full moon casts the room in a pale glow, illuminating half of Nines's face and setting the rest in darkness, the slow spinning of his LED stark against the shadows. 

Gavin slows at the edge of the coffee table, hovering awkwardly. After a few seconds, Nines opens his eyes and pats the couch in an invitation to sit. Gavin hesitates only a moment before joining the android, sinking into the cushions beside him. 

In that timeframe, Nines had closed his eyes again and leaned his head back on the wall. 

A few minutes pass. Gavin shifts uncomfortably. He isn't really sure whether he should say anything—Nines was usually satisfied with silence. Gavin was, too, most of the time. 

Finally, without changing position, Nines speaks. "I'm sure you're wondering what's bothering me." Gavin opens his mouth to reply— "You kept glancing my way, particularly when I exhibited characteristics unlike my usual behavior."

Gavin closes his mouth, teeth clacking. He huffs. "Yeah. I'm pretty curious. But you don't _have_ to tell me." Neither of them are that great about spilling their guts to each other. 

Nines opens his eyes, icy gaze flicking to him as the android curls his lips upward in something like a smile. Except he looks like he's in pain. "We tried getting Connor back into his body again this morning."

Oh.

His false smile fades, eyes turning back to the ceiling. "I do not wish to burden Hank with the knowledge of additional failures. There have been five attempts, now, and every time, it's the same." He lifts his hands, pressing the heels of his palms to his eyes. "It hurts to watch him when he's… like that. He just looks so… _empty._ Vacant. Struggling to move at all…"

Gavin reaches forward, putting a hand on Nines's shoulder. His partner stiffens slightly at the contact, but then immediately sighs, relaxing noticeably. He sits up, folding his hands in his lap. "I can see it. Connor can see it. They've lost hope that they can help him. But…" Nines's eyes slide in his direction. "Connor has told me that he's been speaking with Elijah Kamski. Our creator has, apparently, been looking through the code of the protocol…"

With his hand on Nines's shoulder, the way he twitches is probably even more obvious than usual. 

Nines blinks at him. Tilts his head. "That was an interesting reaction, Gavin." His LED flickers as his probing eyes roam Gavin's face. "Do you… know him personally?"

Fucking android detective. Gavin pulls his hand back, but Nines immediately snatches it by the wrist. "My apologies. I did not mean to pry."

Gavin stares at where Nines gripped him. He breathes in to reply— and breathes out, looking away. He shifts his arm so he can curl his fingers Nines's wrist as well. "Maybe eventually," he says. "I'll tell you about it."

Nines nods, leaning back. They continue to sit in silence for a bit, before Nines speaks again. "I haven't interacted with him much, myself. I mostly know of him from what I've seen from Connor." He paused, glancing at Gavin, before continuing. "Kamski is curiously generous to us. He's repaired Connor every time he acquired damage that Jericho couldn't fix. And," Nines gives an amused huff, "He helped me modify my nanoskin program when I brought Connor to him one time, and he noticed I had polish only on one hand." 

Oh, yeah. He'd wondered a bit about that. Gavin turns their hands over to see Nines's nails—the glossy black polish is as flawless as always. He still recalled how Nines would start a day with polish on both hands, and then make an… interesting face whenever he had to interface with something, dissolving the polish on whichever hand he chose to do so. He'd eventually stopped trying to keep it on his left. 

_Of course_ Eli would help with this sort of thing. 

Gavin releases a breath, still keeping his eyes on their hands. "You never had to get repairs from him, though?"

He sees Nines shake his head from his peripherals. "I have yet to require any specialized assistance. Connor seems… particularly careless when it is only his own safety at risk."

Sounds about right. He'd—definitely saved Gavin's hide more than once, even at his own expense, despite everything. Not like _that_ didn't make him feel like any more of an asshole _at all_. "Really wonder where he gets that self-sacrificing streak from…" 

Nines smiles again, but this one just looked sad. "It's all him, I believe. I have the feeling that he values everyone else above himself." His eyes dropped to their hands, too. "I wish he could see his own worth. I wish he could know that he matters to us just as much as we matter to him…"

Gavin moves his hand up to Nines's shoulder, sliding out of the android's loose hold. "I think… he knows." Gavin speaks slowly, unsure of his words. "But knowing people value you and valuing yourself aren't… the same, necessarily. Self-worth isn't always… easy." 

Nines closes his eyes, a soft sigh escaping him as he lays his other hand on Gavin's wrist. "You are, of course, correct." His eyes open a sliver, looking somewhere to the side. "I wish he was here so that I could be _there_ for him. I wish… I…" His eyes slip shut again. "Gavin. Every day, I miss him more. Even when he's with me. Even though he's always with me in some part. I'm grateful he isn't gone, I'm grateful to have so much of him, I'm the only one who can even _feel_ him—but I still want more. I still want him _back_. Is—is that wrong?"

"No." Gavin slides closer, grabbing Nines's other shoulder. "No, definitely not." He gives a slight shake, and Nines looks at him, eyes full of uncertainty. "This? This is loss. He died, in a sense, and now he's far away. You're in fucking pain because there's _no way_ this doesn't hurt. There's nothing wrong with feeling this."

Nines purses his lips. "He isn't— _dead._ "

Small mercies, Gavin can't help but think. "But he's lost his body and his mind comes and goes. Maybe this is almost worse—"

"No," Nines's voice fucking _shakes_. "Nothing would be worse than losing him forever."

"Okay. Yeah. Fair. But like this, none of you can move on. You can't go forward, since he's still _here_ , but you can't go back, because he's not _there._ It's… tough, alright? I can't imagine what it's like for you."

Nines laughs, then, once. A bitter, fragile sound. "Yes. It hurts. Every day. For me, for Hank, for Connor. But I'd still rather have him like this than lost forever."

"Yeah," Gavin murmurs. "That's just what it means to be alive. We want things, even when they hurt."

He isn't sure what drove him to do it. He doesn't even know if he thinks of Nines that way. But he leans closer, lifts one of his hands to brush against Nines's face— 

And Nines flinches back, LED yellow, then, realizing, LED red, eyes widening— 

Gavin immediately jerks his hands away as if burned. "Sorry," he says immediately. "Sorry, I shouldn't have—" God, he looks so confused— 

"Calm down, both of you." One of Nines's hands is on Gavin's chest, the other on his own. "Detective Reed, please give us a moment."

Gavin spares only a moment to be surprised by Connor's intervention. He nods mutely, not quite able to do much else. 

Nines-Connor stands, leaning over to put a hand on his shoulder. "Don't do anything rash. We'll figure this out."

And then they stride to the balcony, leaving Gavin wondering if he's screwed everything up again.

* * *

_Connor. Connor, I didn't mean to, I didn't—I just—_

_It's okay, Nines. It's okay._ Connor closes the sliding door of the balcony behind him, and then leans over the metal frame of the glass railing. "Why do you think you reacted that way?"

Nines breathes out, trying to calm himself. Connor's code is soothing as he sends waves of calming subroutines, but Nines still finds it difficult to rein in his thoughts. "It wasn't necessarily… conscious. But I… I've never thought about him that way…" Nines trails off, before his focus snaps back. "Connor, he's— he's _important_ to me, no one could replace him— but— like _that?_ I don't know…" He presses an arm as he steps away from the railing, as he begins pacing. "I care about you. I care about Hank. I care about Gavin. All in completely unique ways. All of you allow me to explore a different facet of myself. But not _once_ have I— I don't know why, I have never previously taken issue with others pursuing relationships of that sort—"

 _What is he to you, Nines?_

_He's…_ Nines slows his pacing, coming to a stop.

 _He is…_

A hand on his shoulder, a steady support. 

Casual banter—once insults, but now a shared routine, something that both enjoyed. 

He recalls… The day things began to shift, months after they'd been partnered… 

_"Why the fuck did you—? Bastard got away!" He pointedly did not mention the detached state of Nines's arm._

_"Without my intervention, you had an 93% possibility of fatal injury. On the other hand, I had a 0.8% likelihood of fatal damage, 5% likelihood of critical, but recoverable damage, and 63% likelihood of manageable injury, in the case that I interfered. The choice was obvious. The culprit may yet be caught, but your life cannot be recovered."_

_The detective cursed, turning towards where the criminal fled, before turning back as Nines leaned down to pick up his severed arm. Nines followed his gaze to the dripping thirium. "Not that I'd presume you are concerned about me, but regardless: there is no need to worry. The detachment was fairly clean, all considered. I will have it repaired at Jericho Tower."_

_The human only clicked his tongue, before stepping out towards his vehicle. He paused, looking back at Nines. "You gonna go directly?"_

_"Correct. I will hail a taxi."_

_"No, I—I'll take you."_

Then, slowly… 

_"Forgive me, Detective. I was unable to apprehend her without shutting her down."_

_"'s fine. Just glad you didn't get your arm blown off again."_

_Nines raised an eyebrow. "Detective, why, I did not realize you cared."_

_"Fuck off."_

Bits and pieces. Little things. 

A coffee left on Gavin's desk, on days his mood was particularly foul. The growing frequency of the begrudging thanks, then, until they became less begrudging and more genuine—if still masked by his colorful remarks. 

The once tense air, now a companionable silence. Occasionally, a conversation, a meaningful exchange of thoughts amidst the veneer of vitriol. 

Trust. Support.

_A criminal in Nines's hands, spitting towards the detective. "Just you wait. This piece of plastic trash is gonna replace you completely, just like one replaced me. You're working with something that's not even aliv—"_

_His head jerked to the side from the force of the detective's fist. "Shut the fuck up, prick. You have the right to remain silent."_

_Nines met Reed's eyes. The detective looked away. "Gonna report me?"_

_"No," Nines said. "I don't think I will. Thank you, Detective."_

Acceptance, of each other's idiosyncrasies. That there is a compassion underneath the detective's abrasiveness, that there is _feeling_ , so _much_ , under Nines's emotional distance. 

And eventually… 

_"Hey, uh… You can call me Gavin. I don't think there's a point for you to be so formal at this point."_

_Surprise, and then one of Nines's more genuine smiles. "Of course, Gavin. Thank you."_

It is… something. Something _more_ , even. It makes him happy, it makes him _feel_. 

But it is not _that_. 

"I understand. You really care about him, don't you?"

Nines opens his eyes, turning them to the starlit sky. "Yes. Connor, I don't want to lose him. If I… feel this much… is it love? I don't know… Should I… should I just… ?"

"No. Nines, there's nothing wrong with you. Actually, I was wondering if you were also… hmm." Connor's code hums along with his voice, reverberating through them in body and mind. "Do you think you'd ever want to be in a romantic relationship with anyone?"

Nines considers this. He thinks of committing himself to a single person, of tying himself with the label of being someone's romantic partner. He frowns. He isn't sure if he could do that. If he wants to. He commits different facets of himself to different people, but he could never give so much to one person. Everything is—an exchange, different for everyone, and allowing things to develop naturally without any expectations that came from calling them one thing or another… that feels much better. That feels right. 

He thinks, then, of touch—he likes it when Connor and Hank hug him. He likes when Gavin puts a supportive hand on his arm, his shoulder, his back. He likes—he _misses_ —playing with Connor's hair, he likes the feeling of fingers brushing through his own strands. He thinks of holding hands—and stalls. That is… very dependent on the context. He has no issues with holding Connor's hand, especially while they are interfacing. Anyone else? Uncertain. He thinks of someone pressing lips to his—and immediately curls his toes in discomfort, pressing the back of his hand to his mouth. His thoughts continue, though: of someone pressing a body to his, of _mess_ and _fluids_ —he gives a static hiss of displeasure. 

_Okay, okay, that's okay, Nines._ Connor's mind smooths over his, pushing Nines's considerations out of their minds. "I think you might be aromantic. And asexual."

Nines stops moving, as he immediately takes to the internet to research these terms. 

_An aromantic is a person who experiences little or no romantic attraction to others. People identifying as aromantic can also experience romance in a way otherwise disconnected from normative societal expectations (for example due to feeling repulsed by romance, or being uninterested in romantic relationships.)_

_Asexuality is the lack of sexual attraction to others, or low or absent interest in or desire for sexual activity. It may be considered a sexual orientation or the lack thereof. It may also be categorized more widely to include a broad spectrum of asexual sub-identities._

Both seem to describe him quite well. Yet, he can't help but think— "They say I am… so machine-like, still. And now—I can't even love—"

" ** _No_** ," Connor wrests control of his voice immediately. "That is _absolutely_ not what this means. First of all, a lack of external expression doesn't indicate a lack of internal feeling. We've talked about that. And this? This just means you love differently from what a lot of society expects, okay? Just because you're aromantic doesn't mean you can't have devoted, meaningful interpersonal relationships. And there's nothing wrong with being ace, either."

Nines grips himself tightly. 

Connor smiles, a reassuring gesture. "Let me tell you, Nines: I've been considering that I might be somewhere on the spectra of both, myself."

Nines blinks—yet, thinking about it, he isn't terribly surprised.

"I'm not really… repulsed by romance or sex as you seem to be, but I guess I just don't really experience any desires related to them?" Connor hums. "I'm not necessarily opposed to being in those kinds of relationships. It's more like… I don't want to be limited by them? Everyone's different, so the kind of relationship you'd have with them should be entirely specific to that person. At least, that's what I think. There's so much more to _connection_ than just romance or sex. More than what's conventionally 'friendship,' too, maybe." 

That makes sense. Nines is inclined to agree. 

Connor laughs lightly. "I'm glad. You can probably tell that I've spent an inordinate amount of time thinking about this." 

"I'm grateful you did," Nines smiles wryly. "I am… glad that you could explain it. That you could show me that there is nothing wrong with me for feeling this way."

Their smile widens into something warmer, as a raw _fondness_ floods his processors, as Connor wraps their arms around them. "Of course, Nines. I'm happy I can still support you like this."

At the reminder of the situation, the persistent, familiar ache in Nines's chassis returns. "Ah. I did not get a chance to ask… How are you feeling?"

Connor waves his hand. "You were preoccupied. Good reason. But I'm feeling a lot more together again. Sorry you had to see me like that this morning…"

"I would gladly go through it again and again if it means I could be there for you when it matters."

"Yeah," he turns to see their reflection in the glass, and Nines could see the way Connor softened his own icy gaze, "I know. Thank you, Nines." 

Their eyes slide to where Gavin is still sitting on the couch. Still tense, as he stares at his fidgeting hands. 

"Ready, Nines?"

Uncertain. 

"If he doesn't accept you, then he's not worth it. Got it?"

Nines isn't sure he could let him go so easily.

Connor's tone softens. "I'll talk to him first. You can check over everything I say, and just jump in whenever you're ready."

"Alright," Nines breathes, and they step inside. 

* * *

Gavin had kept his eyes down, for the most part. He'd watched them for a bit at the start—but seeing their mannerisms change back and forth, seeing distress and confusion on Nines's face, seeing Nines grip his arm hard enough for his skin to retract, only for Connor to smooth it into a soothing motion—it felt private. It felt like something he shouldn't see. 

So he looked back down, keeping his eyes on the vague forms of his hands visible in the moonlight filtering through the glass. 

Soon, though, he hears the door slide open. Quiet steps approach, until he feels the couch shift under another weight. 

A beat, and then: "Detective Reed. Nines cares about you considerably. I hope you know that."

Gavin stops his fidgeting.

"However, we've come to the conclusion that he is aromantic. The romance-repulsed kind, most likely."

He looks up, then, eyes meeting familiar gray-blue. Yet weirdly unfamiliar, with Connor behind the normally icy eyes.

"I, Hank, and you are the most important people in his life right now. Losing you would hurt him immensely, but I'd rather have that than let him force himself into something that makes him uncomfortable."

Gavin immediately bristles. "I'd never—" He looks to the side. "I wouldn't do that."

Connor's gaze seems to burn at him as their LED spins. Processing. "Are you romantically attracted to my brother, Gavin? Sexually attracted? He is sex-repulsed as well, we think." 

Gavin blinks, swallows. "Maybe? A bit?" He _is_ nice-looking, Gavin has to admit. "But," he meets Connor's eyes without hesitation, matching the intensity with his own. "I'd rather continue with what we have than go after him like that." His eyes break contact again. "I'm… Hffm. Fuck it. I'm happy, okay? With the way things are." He crosses his arms. "I wasn't really sure if I felt that way about him. I just—I guess some part of my brain expected that _that_ was the reasonable progression from whatever we're at. Maybe part of me wants it. Maybe it's because that's just what society expects of two people that get close." He looks back to them. They tilt their head, watching him. "But, no, this makes sense. I think I like it better this way? It feels right. It feels…" Gavin looks at them, _really_ looks at them. "It feels like _you_ , Nines."

Their eyes flicker, surprise on their face—and then Connor practically _beams_. Christ, that was a trip to see on Nines's face. "You two are good for each other." His smile becomes menacing. "But if you hurt him, if you betray his trust, I'll use these hands to murder you in your sleep."

Nines gives an exasperated sigh, finally offering some response. "Connor, that's unnecessary. Also, quite possibly traumatizing. For me."

"Fine. I'll kill him with his toaster. Revenge for all the toaster comments."

He would. Gavin can see it in his eyes. 

Nines sighs again. "Connor…"

Connor raises their hands in mock surrender for a moment, before turning back to Gavin. "Really, though. I'm glad you can be one of Nines's pillars. Despite… our differences, Detective Reed, you've been a great help to him."

Gavin does not expect that from Connor. He blinks slowly. "Gavin," he finally says. "You can call me Gavin if you want. And, for what it's worth… I'm sorry I was such an ass to you."

Connor freezes, before his expression shifts into something like a smile. "Thank you. And I will… I will stick to Reed, for now. Maybe… one day." He closes their eyes.

When they open again, Gavin knows Nines is behind them. "Is he gone?"

"No," Nines places a hand on his chest, looking to the side. "He's never gone. Just less present." 

Right.

Nines lowers his hand and looks back at Gavin. "He still isn't comfortable with you," he says, quietly. 

"I'm sure you know what I did to him. Just desserts, really."

Nines's mouth twitches. "... Yes. Perhaps so."

They sit in silence. After a few minutes, Gavin speaks. "What makes you uncomfortable? So I know what to avoid."

"Ah." Nines blinks. "Yes. Kissing seems to bother me. Hand-holding… depends on the situation. I'm not quite sure." He closes his eyes. Thinking. "The thought of engaging in sexual acts or… being viewed as a sexual object is also unnerving. Though I don't believe I mind the knowledge that others engage in such activities." His eyes flutter open, and they meet Gavin's. "I enjoy many other kinds of physical contact. When you put your hand on my shoulder or such, I find it grounding. Hugging Hank and," pain flickers across his face, "Connor, when I could, is very nice. Casual touches… I do not mind receiving them, from those I… trust. Even if I am not typically inclined to give them. It is also… a _very_ nice sensation to have hands brush through my hair."

Gavin nods. "Okay. That's fair." He considers. "Can I… hug you?"

Surprise flashes across Nines's face, before an almost _shy_ , barely-present smile teases at his mouth. " … Can you?"

Gavin reaches forward, then, and wraps his arms around the cool frame of Nines's body. He feels the android circle his arms around Gavin's own back as the android sets his chin on Gavin's shoulder. 

Wow. It's been a while since he hugged anyone. Well—Tina hugged him, sometimes, but he tended not to reciprocate all that much. If they were anywhere public. Or if he didn't feel like it. Which was most of the time. 

He can see why Nines likes it, though.

A sudden, immense curiosity fills him. "Can I… touch your hair?"

"I would not object to that."

Gavin lifts a hand, hesitant as he starts carding his fingers through the strands. Wow. It's… actually really soft. Fucking androids and their fucking perfect hair. Nines gives a pleased hum, the sound reverberating through his entire chassis as he practically melts in Gavin's hold. 

Wow. Okay. "Are you a fucking cat?" Maybe that's why Orca likes him. Kindred souls or some shit. 

"Hmm?" Nines shifts slightly. "Oh. Hank and Connor have asked similar things… mm."

Gavin feels like he's in some kind of surreal dream where Nines is touchy-feely and basically a cat. He's just so… relaxed. Gavin can feel the slow, artificial breaths as they expanded and contracted Nines's chassis, he could feel the steady beats of the android's thirium pump as they seemed to align with his own pulse.

It felt impossibly _close._ A strangely heady feeling. 

He wonders, for a moment, if Connor feels this, too. 

He wonders, for a moment, if Connor would be uncomfortable with this, with _him_ , and his fingers stall, falter.

"It's okay." 

Barely a whisper. He can't tell who's talking. But he closes his eyes and sighs, resuming his ministrations. 

Eventually, he feels like he's been holding on to Nines long enough—plus, his hand is getting tired—so he pulls back. Nines lets go of him almost reluctantly. "This stays between us," Gavin mutters. "The three of us," he says, in an even lower voice.

A small smile. Gavin still can't tell if Connor was there or if it was just Nines. "Of course, Detective." 

They lapse into companionable silence for a bit longer, both of them left to their thoughts. 

Gavin speaks, suddenly, keeping his eyes on his hands. "Eli's… not a bad person. He's honest, he's dedicated. The few things he cares about, he cares about a lot. He's just an insufferable bastard sometimes. Most of the time." A pause. "If he really sets his mind to something, he's going to do it. If he _really_ wants to save Connor, he won't give up until he succeeds." Still nothing from Nines. "So, uh… Connor's probably… going to be fine. He'll be back."

Gavin sits, tense, wondering if Nines would press him for more. He can hear Nines take a breath. "Thank you, Gavin," is all he says. "Thank you."

They sit in the quiet until Gavin can't fight the call of sleep anymore.

When he wakes up, he's in bed, and he sees a note on the bedside table. Rendered in one of Nines's beautifully perfect fonts, but not one he's seen before. 

_Thank you_.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm probably somewhere between Connor and Nines on the ace/aro spectrum here - I wanted explore some different ways they might experience being on the spectrum. Everyone, of course, has a different experience with it - this isn't at all representative of what others might think.  
> Also, Gavin is definitely not ace/aro here, and I wanted to consider what kind of dynamic an ace/aro Nines might have with a Gavin that's not. (I've had an unfortunate circumstance with someone not accepting my aromanticism, so that was unpleasant.) I hope it seems reasonable! I found writing Gavin's inner voice to be... remarkably difficult. You probably noticed the bleeding in of my own natural stylistic tendencies, heh.
> 
> I also tried some present tense? I think I like it? That sense of immediacy. Might keep doing that.
> 
> ALSO yes Nines is absolutely a cat  
> I will *slams table* always give Nines cat tendencies and you can't stop me
> 
> Where did the name "Orca" come from? I have no idea. It was the first thing that came to mind. But I sure do like orcas.
> 
> Definitions of aromanticism and asexuality are taken from [asexuality.org](http://wiki.asexuality.org/Aromantic) and [Wikipedia](https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Asexuality)!


End file.
